Visiting
by Herondalegirl25
Summary: Dean and Sam, while on a hunt, stop off at the Beach City Grill and are amused by the employees there. *Also includes Night Vale crossover* -slight language-


"AND IT'S THE. EYE OF THE TIGER. IT'S THE THRILL OF THE FIGHT. RISING UP-"  
Sam Winchester plugged his ears and leaned away from his brother, Dean Winchester, who was currently belting out the Journey song. By the time the song had ended, they had arrived at their destination. Sam had found the little sandwich shop online that morning, and they had decided to check it out. Dean gently shut the door on the 1967 Chevy Impala, and walked around the front of the car. He'd ditched his favorite leather jacket in the backseat earlier. This was much warmer weather than they were used to. The last time they'd been in this state, Dean had worked as a P.A. for a week on a film set. And he'd been one hell of a good one. He grinned, remembering the craft services table. They made their way across the street and into the Beach City Grill. The Winchesters were currently in Santa Cruz, hunting for a nasty nest of Vamps, that one of Bobby's old friends had called them about. So far they'd found zilch on the bloodsuckers, but they'd only been in town a day. A giant mural of a beach met the boys when they stepped inside the small building. There was a long counter that covered one half of the floor, with a few booths on the opposite wall. A girl with short blond hair was sitting at a laptop behind the counter, typing quickly. Dean looked up at the menu board.  
"Ten inch hero," He read aloud. "Well that's beautiful." He snorted. Sam rolled his eyes, ignoring his brother. The younger brother stepped up to the counter and looked at a stunning young woman, with long, flowing dark hair. Exactly Dean's type. Poor girl, she was in for it.  
"Hi, can I get a Cobb salad, please?"  
The woman scribbled on the notepad. "Sure thing." She smiled. Dean moved closer and widened his eyes when he focused on her.  
"Uh,"  
Sam snickered. He didn't often see Dean speechless, these days.  
"What can I get you?" The woman asked. She smiled at Dean.  
"Ten inch hero. With a side of your phone number."  
The woman narrowed her eyes and grinned. Suddenly, a man with a bright blue Mohawk, black eyeliner rimming his eyes, and several tattoos and piercings, leaned over the woman. "Sure, she lives with me now - commitment . Bummer, I know. So, my number is 672-"  
Dean held up his hand, stopping the odd creature. "Understood." He grinned at the couple. "No hard feelings?"  
"Oh please, I've been in your shoes. Ten inch hero coming up." The man saluted Dean with a metal kitchen tool, then turned around to a grill.  
The woman smiled and playfully pushed the Mow hawked man behind her. "Is that all?"  
"Yes." Sam answered. He paid quickly, while Dean walked to one of the booths. He sat, and looked up at the mural. Another blond with pigtails cleaned off the table in front of him, and she caught his eye.  
"You like?"  
"Oh yeah it's, it's great."  
The girl ignored the sarcasm. "I painted this last year, actually."  
Dean coughed.  
Sam sat down, and looked at him. "You okay?" Dean shook his head. Sam turned and saw the blond in pigtails laughing softly as she walked away.  
"She's gotten better since that." The man with the Mohawk gestured toward the mural. Sam raised his eyebrows and nodded. "I told her to do something more controversial, but she didn't take my advice." He frowned. "Like someone pissing on the Pope."  
"I'm telling you," A voice came from the back room. "You shouldn't talk like that now."  
The blue haired man threw up his arms. "THE POPE QUIT. It's not because I talked about someone pissing on him. He just QUIT."  
Dean looked at Sam who shrugged.  
"He said 'Damn it all to hell, I quit.' And he did."  
"Sure, Priestly." The voice that sounded like an older man's, said from the backroom.  
Dean readjusted himself. "How'd you find this place?" He whispered to Sam.  
"Internet."  
"Oh, great. Remind me to read the reviews before we hit the next internet joint you find."  
The model with dark hair set the plates down in front of them.  
"Enjoy, boys." She grinned at them, before sashaying back behind the counter.  
"On second thought..." Dean commented, as Sam stabbed at his salad, watching the waitress.

A few minutes later, Dean had devoured half of the sandwich, which he was thoroughly enjoying. Sam was picking at his salad as he clicked on his laptop that he'd grabbed from the car - the grill offered Wi-Fi. The cook, who was evidently named Priestly, was leaning on the counter, the lunch rush over. He took a sip out of a can of soda.  
"So, Jen." He bumped into the short haired blond sitting at the counter. "How's Fuzzy?"  
Jen groaned. "For the thousandth time, his name is Todd, Boaz."  
Priestly sat down his soda with a thud. "WE SAID WE WERE NEVER GOING TO MENTION THAT AGAIN."  
"Now I'm even more confused." Dean sat his sandwich down. Sam chuckled softly.  
"You're actually paying attention?"  
Dean ignored him and took another bite of the sandwich.  
"Alright so, I think I found where the nest might be. Rick said that they were down by the beach, and I found info about an old chapel that's been abandoned on the water front for over thirty years. Seems like a good place to start, don'tcha think?" Sam looked up at his brother.  
"Uh-hu." Dean had a sauce from the sandwich smeared across his chin.  
"Oh, God, Dude." Sam made a face. "You need to get a room with that sandwich?"  
Dean pointed down at the large portion still left. "I haven't had anything this good since the Turducken."  
"Well, you know how that ended up."  
"Yeah, you pissed off my sandwich."  
Dean looked to the counter where Jen was taking an order from someone over the phone, and Priestly was flipping kitchen utensils in the air.  
"But, I highly doubt this group is in charge multimillion dollar corporation that is trying to fatten poor slobs up and then killing them."  
Sam nodded. "I think that's a good assumption. Now come on, hurry up."  
Dean downed the rest of his sandwich. They left the Beach City Grill and headed out to hunt.

"Really, thanks for your help, guys. Couldn't have done it without you." Rick sat a machete down in the trunk of his car.  
"No problem, Rick. We're actually gonna need to head South West anyway. Frank just called and asked us to check out Wackoville, U.S.A." Dean responded to the Hunter.  
"Well, good luck. I'll see ya."  
The three men parted ways; Dean and Sam climbed back into the Impala and Dean sighed.  
"I'm hungry."  
Sam snorted. "When are you not hungry?"  
"Shut up."  
After a few minutes, Dean slid the car into a parking spot outside the grill they had visited yesterday.  
"I'll have a Ten Inch Hero sandwich." He ordered from the other short blond girl who painted the mural.  
"Coming right up. Would you like anything?" She asked Sam.  
He ordered another salad, then they sat down at one of the booths. A old lady, and man sat at the other booth, a yapping little dog sitting next to them.  
Dean stretched out his legs and exhaled.  
"Piper, Tish?" A man in his forties or so stepped out from the back room. He had a surfer type of hair cut, that reminded Dean of a boy band lead singer. The man also had a tiny braid that fell past his neck. Probably still stuck in Woodstock. "I need you guys to run a delivery. You can take the van." The blond and brunette both looked up at the man and nodded. The blond, Piper, grabbed a bag from the man.  
"Sure thing, Trucker."  
Tish, the dark haired model Dean was still drooling over, leaned up and kissed Priestly on the cheek, before following Piper out the door. Priestly grinned after them. A few moments later, an old VW bus sputtered to life outside the grill. They watched it drive past the windows, as their food sat down in front of them.  
Priestly stood up and surveyed the food he'd just set down on the table. "Everything good?"  
Dean nodded and happened to notice then what Priestly was wearing. The grown man, with now a green Mohawk, was currently sporting a kilt, and a T-Shirt that had Abraham Lincoln doing some sort of dance move, that Dean remember from that video of the Japanese guy. Man, that got old quick.  
"Yeah, thanks." Sam grinned as he started to dig into his salad.  
Dean didn't know how to respond to the dress wearing man, so he simply nodded again.  
Priestly gave them a salute. "Rock on, gents." And headed back toward the grill. Dean watched after him. Sam frowned, looking at his brother.  
"What's up with you?"  
Dean coughed. "Well, that dude does have some good looks."  
Sam rolled his eyes. "We need to get you back to Cas."

A few hours later, the brothers were back inside the Impala, cruising down the highway. A Black Sabbath song played through the speakers as Sam looked through the info he'd printed out that morning that Frank had sent them. He couldn't really make sense of any of it.  
"So," Dean turned down the volume. "What are we up against?"  
Sam shook his head. "Not exactly sure. This place sounds like it's seriously messed up. Listen to this; last year, during a PTA meeting, a time vortex opened up, and several Pterodactyls started flying around, killing people."  
Dean widened his eyes. "Well, that's not normal."  
"Exactly. Then it says that a few guy's stuck their heads in the vortex, to see what they could see of the future or past."  
"Idiots." Dean muttered.  
"Yeah, but get this, after they pulled themselves back, they were like thousands of years old."  
"Frank, what did you get us into?" Dean said quietly.

A purple sign welcomed them to the small town. Both boys watched out the windows, looking for anything odd as Dean creped along.  
"Hey, check that out." Sam pointed out the windshield to a fenced area up ahead. There were several hooded figures, slowly walking in circles inside the fence.  
"They couldn't be Reapers," Dean commented.  
"No, we wouldn't be able to see them. Here, park up there. It's a radio station. Maybe we can get some information."  
The town looked deserted. Besides the weirdoes circling in what they found out was a dog park, there was no one. "Creepy town, population none." Dean murmured, as he parked the car, and they both stepped out.

Just as they went to open the door to the station, it opened automatically. A tall man stepped out, with blond hair, glasses, and tattoos covering his arms. He also had what looked to be a third eye on his forehead. Dean blinked. It must just be another tat. He fumbled slightly, then pulled out his fake I.D. Sam did the same.  
"How you doing sir, I'm agent Hemsworth, this is agent Shaw. There were a few, odd things reported around town lately. Could you possibly help elaborate?"  
The man thought for a moment then shook his head. "Not that I know of. We had another angel gathering last week in the square, but that's normal."  
"Angel gathering?" Dean asked, shocked.  
"Sure." The man had a deep, intriguing voice. He must be a host at the radio station. "Ever since they first visited Old Woman Josie, they've been regular visitors."  
"Uh," Dean was speechless for a moment.  
"Sir," Sam took over. "Can you please tell us who those people are in the dog park, over there?"  
"Do not approach them." Was the only comment the man had.

Dean rubbed his forehead. This was getting weirder by the second. "Well, where is everybody?"  
"Everyone is out by the Radon Canyon, the Glow Cloud has appeared once again. I was just heading over to get some live coverage." He indicated the box and microphone that he was carrying.  
"The 'glow cloud'?" Sam asked.  
A mischievous smile grew on the man's face. "Gentlemen, I am Cecil Baldwin." The smile grew.  
"And welcome to Night Vale."


End file.
